Christmas Fire
by InMyEyes2014
Summary: Emma and Killian spend their first Christmas as a married couple enjoying family, presents and fun of the season. Just a one-shot to welcome the holiday season. Rated M for some smut.


_**I am not usually one to write a Daddy Killian story, but here it goes. I've had four friends announce that they are pregnant this week so I couldn't help but get in the mood a little bit. Plus all the Christmas decorations, the music, etc. It just sort of wrote itself. Enjoy!**_

Emma's arms were full between her baby brother and the glass of egg nog that her mother had shoved at her the moment she'd walked in the door. Not wanting to insult her mother, she'd taken both and tried to pretend that the drink was to her liking. Killian was not as discreet in his dislike for the thick beverage that he had sat on the table after one sip and a few sour expressions. She had laughed at his horrified expression when her mother had offered him a refill.

The family scene of Christmas Eve was one that was foreign to her. Her experiences with the holiday usually included other foster children and some charitable organization that gave them generic gifts. But there she sat with her baby brother on the couch of her parents' home. Her son, Henry, was rummaging under the tree to inspect the brightly wrapped gifts and conspiring with her husband to guess the contents of each based on the sounds emitted. That word still sounded strange, even after seven months of marriage.

Her father was attempting to play a cd of Christmas music, muttering about technology and useless gadgets when no sound came out. Mary Margaret was covering the last of the leftovers from their dinner. She had separated them into a bag for Emma and Killian and another for Henry to take to his other mother's to share. Her face shown only contentment as she took care of those around her.

"Grandpa?" Henry asked, after whispering to Killian about one of the presents. "You know some families have a tradition of opening one gift early." He looked so hopeful at that moment that Emma wondered how two realists like she and Neal could have created such a child. "Don't you think that is a cool idea?"

"Hmmmm?" David asked distractedly. "Oh. I think I prefer opening all the gifts at once on Christmas morning."

Emma stifled a laugh at both Killian and Henry's disappointed reactions. She had a hard time determining who was the bigger kid out of the two. But the disappointment melted as they again dug around under the tree to determine who all had gifts under its decorated branches. Settling her egg nog on the table, she shifted her brother in her arms and sighed. "I'm sure Santa went extra nuts on you," she said, kissing the baby's nose. "Nothing like a spoiled baby."

Henry looked up annoyed, his eyes darkening as he processed his mother's words. "You mean the baby's getting more gifts than I am?" he asked. "Seriously?"

Emma rolled her eyes and admonished him with a low hiss. "Henry Mills," she said. "You know better than to be jealous of a baby. You've got a ton of presents at home, here, at Regina's and even Belle said Gold had searched out half of the video games in town for the perfect one for you. Don't tell me that you're going to be resentful over some onesies, pacifiers, and teething rings."

"Sorry," the adolescent boy muttered. "I just love Christmas."

Mary Margaret wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and walked back to where her daughter was sitting. Sitting next to her, she clucked her son under the chin with a warm smile and then turned to Henry. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to open up just one present tonight," she said. "Emma, you wouldn't mind, would you?"

Emma pretended to contemplate it. "I don't know, Mom," she said with a yawn. "I'm kinda tired and Henry's not exactly on his best behavior. You and Dad have done a ton of work to have us over for dinner. And I'm sure Killian will fall over drunk if he has any more of your egg nog."

"Mom!" Henry protested, shooting a Killian a begging look for support. "Please!"

Killian chuckled at his step-son's display, realizing that the boy was very serious about his love for the holiday. This was only the second time he had celebrated in such a way, but last year had been overshadowed by his plan to propose to Emma. He'd gone through the family meal and gift giving like a zombie, waiting for just the right time to present her with the ring he had chosen. Now that they were married and happy, he was just starting to realize that he too had gained a family. "Love," he said, cocking one eyebrow at her. "I think the boy might burst if you don't let him open one present at least."

"I will," Henry sighed dramatically. "It's stressful to be a kid at Christmas. I need a present to tide me over until tomorrow."

"I think we've been overruled, Dad," Emma said with a laugh. "Fine. Open a present."

All the adults laughed as Henry dove under the tree and began to hold up different presents, shaking them, and then discarding them for another. "This one," he said. "No, this one." It would be Christmas morning before the boy ever finished deciding, Emma thought. Handing her gurgling baby brother off to her mother, she crossed over to where her husband and son sat next to the tree and fished out a few packages herself. One she handed to Killian and one each to her parents. The final one she took with her. Rather than opening it, she placed it in her purse and clapped her hands together.

"Henry," David said warningly as the boy still tried to pick out what he wanted best. He sat on the arm of the couch next to his wife and peeled back the blue and silver paper. He pulled out a new book by his favorite author. "Fantastic," he said, leaning forward to hug his only daughter. "It will be the perfect book to read on these snowy days."

Mary Margaret was even more meticulous with her unwrapping. She so slowly peeled the tape off that Emma was inclined to jump in and open it herself. Finally Emma told her that it was going to expire before she got it open. The mother of two smiled at her daughter as she pulled out a camera.

"I thought you could use a new one," she said. "Polaroid Cameras are a bit outdated."

From the perplexed look on his face, she could tell that Killian was not quite understanding his gift. But she wasn't ready to explain it to him yet. And like he said about so many things he knew she thought he would understand, he simply told her that it was lovely.

Henry finally picked out a gift, its size and shape indicating a video game. Emma chuckled when he acted surprised at its contents and immediately asked when they could leave so he could get home to his console. She admonished him again, telling him to say good night to his grandparents and uncle before the three of them bundled up and headed back toward their apartment.

Henry was trying to read the game's description for the tenth time, lagging behind Emma and Killian She was holding both bags of left overs, snuggled firmly under Killian's arm. "That wasn't too painful, was it?" she asked. "I know my parents can be a bit much."

He pulled her in tighter and chuckled as Henry came within inches of walking into a light post. "I enjoy spending time with you and Henry no matter where it is," he said. "Besides it was dinner with Snow White and Prince Charming, not the bloody Dark One or the Evil Queen."

"I don't think that would be much fun for me either," she admitted. "What did you think of your gift?" She watched that look of panic that all men get when their wife asks such a question. Words were jumbling in his mind and failing to reach his mouth.

"Darling," he said with his huskiest voice. "I would love any trinket you give me, but the best gift of all is being by your side." With that sentiment he pressed his lips to her temple.

"Sweet," she said with a little giggle. "A load of crap, but it was sweet." Stopping, she waited for Henry to catch up and then pass them. "It's a picture frame," she explained to him. "I thought it would be nice for you to have something like that on your desk at the station." While not officially an employee, Killian had taken to helping on certain cases and even staked out one of the desks as his own.

"I'm aware it is a frame," he said with a chuckle. "I'm not so inept that I haven't seen one before. It just confused me because it has compartments?"

She reached over and pulled the silver frame from his pocket and held it up under the twinkling lights that decorated downtown. "It will hold three photos," she said, placing a finger on each of the openings. "I put our wedding photo in the first one. And in the second is a photo of Henry."

Killian nodded, placing his own fingers on the frame that was shaped like a house. "And perhaps in this opening we could place one of the three of us," he said softly. "Your mother might take one tomorrow with that new camera of hers."

Emma bit her lip, holding the frame in a now shaking hand. "I'm sure she would love that," Emma muttered. She put it back in his pocket and settled back against him. "Merry Christmas, Killian."

He murmured the greeting back and led them the rest of the way to the apartment they shared.

***AAA***

Henry's excitement was ready to boil over when he saw the new blanket of snow on the ground and the presents that had spilled out from under the tree to fill an entire corner of the living room. Emma had told him four times that it was way too early to wake up, but after the fourth time and Killian's own puppy dog expression, she had relented. Her son was practically buried under a mound of wrapping paper, but his excited voice was comparing gifts with Killian and telling him over and over that he would teach him to use whatever new piece of equipment that he was talking about at the moment.

She sat there next to her husband, her hands curling around the warm tea that she had insisted on that morning. Her own pile of presents was neatly stacked, new books, a CD, a sweater, a necklace, earrings, tickets to a concert, a framed photograph, and a t-shirt that had made Henry howl in laughter. Her son, with his humor on display, had also given her a few DVD's that he had picked out from a discount bin, including the _Princess Bride_ and _Hooked_.

Killian was wearing his new bathrobe, thumbing through a copy of an atlas and listening as Henry explained that they needed to take his new telescope out to try as soon as possible. They were already making plans when Emma interrupted to remind Henry that he was due at Regina's house soon. Her son reluctantly trudged back to his bedroom to get ready, already forgetting his promise that he'd clean up the mess of paper and ribbon.

Emma patted Killian's knee with her hand, brushed his cheek with her mouth, and began tossing the trash into a bag. "Want some help, love?" he asked, distractedly running a finger across one of the maps. "I can clean up."

"No," she said. "You're enjoying that atlas too much for me to make you clean up. I've got it." She was done in a few minutes and sank against the couch with her eyes on the clock. "Henry!"

"Merry Christmas, Mom," he said, emerging from his room in the emerald green sweater she had picked out for him. "I'll see you guys tonight, right?" Henry was going to join them at the Nolan's for another dinner with Regina, Robin and Roland. It was a new tradition they were trying to start to include everyone in the family.

"You got it," she said. "Is Regina out there already?" She lifted her head off the pillow, one leg still extended on the couch and the other foot on the floor.

"Just pulled up," she said, kissing her cheek. "I'll see you tonight." A quick hug to Killian and he was headed toward his other home.

"Merry Christmas," she called after him. "Don't forget the batteries for your…" He was already gone.

Staring up at the ceiling, she thought about how awkward it was at times to share a child. There were occasions she wanted to be the only adult in his life that he called mom. She wanted him to be tucked in at her home each night. She didn't want to worry about someone undermining her or threatening to take her place. She didn't want to share her memories of him, knowing that Regina had more and better memories of him growing up.

"He loves you," Killian said, lifting her leg up so he could sit next to her. He replaced it and pulled the other one up too. "It's barely 9 a.m. and you look exhausted." His brow furrowed in concern. "Are you feeling ill?"

"I'm fine," she said, scooting down so she could be closer to him. "We were out late last night and up early this morning. Can't help being a little tired."

"Aye," he agreed, taking her hand in his own. "It was fun to see the lad so excited though. And probably by next year your little brother will be in the same state." His thumb ran over her palm, the coldness of the metal rings brushing her fingers.

"It's funny," she said, looking toward the tree next to the window. "I never imagined having a family at my age, and now I have a growing one." Her stomach grumbled noisily and she clamped her free hand down across her abdomen. "Wow. I guess I want breakfast."

He chuckled and helped pull her to a sitting position. "Why don't I make it for you?" he asked. "You sit and relax. What would you like?"

"Eggs would be good," she said. "Maybe bacon. Maybe sausage? Maybe both?"

He raised his eyebrow at her, a sure sign that he was amused. "You must be starving," he commented. "But whatever my princess wants…" He loosened his grip on her hand as he maneuvered to stand, but she pulled him back down.

"I think I want pancakes," she said. "With that maple syrup that we got from Granny?"

He chuckled again. "I can handle that," he said. "Pancakes it is. I'll nix the eggs and pork."

She darted her eyes up, looking sheepish. "I don't know," she said. "I kinda like the idea of that too."

"Emma?" he asked, carefully. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm sorry," she said, guiltily. "You're trying to be sweet to me and I'm acting like this is my last meal on death row." She hesitated. "Pancakes," she said firmly. "I want pancakes."

He looked at her questioningly, but avoided actually voicing any concern. If the idea of a multiple photo frame confused him, her behavior was more so. Shooting her a final look, he trudged back into the kitchen and began pulling out the ingredients that he placed in the bowl he cradled in his wounded arm. While he measured and stirred, she dug into her purse and pulled out the gift that she had swiped the night before. Her fingers toyed with the silver ribbon, twisting it and pulling at it lightly.

"Killian," she said, her voice weak and insecure. "Last night…"

His dark lashes fanned out as he opened his eyes wider, looking at her as he stirred the contents of the bowl. "Love, you're beginning to worry me," he said. "Come talk to me." Settling the bowl on the tiled countertop, he rested the spoon on its edge. "Please, love, just talk to me."

She nodded, climbing up onto one of the barstools. She still held the small box in her hand, but she tried to hold it still rather than fidget with it. "Blueberries?" she asked, pointing her chin at the bowl. "That sounds good, doesn't it?" He went back to the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl of the blue fruit. "Or strawberries? That sounds good too."

"Emma," he said with a sigh. "What is going on with you?"

She looked at the package in her hands. "Last night I was going to open this with you," she said. "I thought it would be a great way to surprise you, but I chickened out." Placing the package back down on the counter, she shrugged. "It seemed stupid and cheesy to have an audience, even if they are my parents. So I pocketed it and brought it back here. I thought I'd put it under the tree. Then I realized that maybe I was wrong. Maybe you wouldn't want me to tell you like that."

"Darling," he said, closing the refrigerator with his hip. "As much as I love your stories, you're rambling."

He set the strawberries and blueberries on the counter in front of them both. She smiled and pointed at the blueberries. "Sorry," she said, hastily. "I've never actually done this part before. I mean I've been…well, I've just never. Okay, I'll tell you. Just give me a moment." She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly, and then repeated. Opening one eye, she saw his panicked expression. "Okay, okay, okay…"

He reached out to her, but she lowered her head to her folded arms on the counter. "I'm pregnant," she said. "I was trying to come up with a creative idea of how to tell you. I've read websites and magazines. I've even practiced in the mirror. Nothing worked. I hated every idea. Do you know what is in this box? A freaking pregnancy test. Then I realize you might not know what that was and I didn't want to explain it in front of my parents. And…"

"Wait," Killian interrupted. "A baby?"

She raised her head back up, looking at his confused expression made her want to laugh. "Yes," she said. "I'm pregnant. We're having a baby."

"Right now?" he asked, pushing over the berries as though they had something to do with it.

Why was he having a hard time with the concept? Just a few months ago, her doctor had said that it might be a good idea to switch her to a new form of birth control. After a few hours of discussion about the idea of a family, they had decided to let nature see what would happen. When no pregnancy occurred, Emma had not brought it up again. So it wasn't exactly the biggest shock that she was now pregnant.

"Not right at this moment, but in a few months, yes," Emma explained patiently. "We said we wanted this to happen at some point, but you're…? Are you sure you're okay with this? It's a little late to freak out on me."

Killian rounded the island in three strides, pancake batter and fruit lay forgotten on the counter. "Emma, this is great news," he said, scooping her up in his arms. "How long have you known? When?"

She finally let herself smile at his reaction, realizing that he was just being her confused pirate when she was trying to tell him. The bright smile on his face when he looked down at her, the shining in his eyes, and the way he wouldn't let her go were all the evidence she needed that was indeed happy with the news. "I took a home test about five days ago and confirmed it at the doctor two days ago," she told him, still amused and thrilled by the excitement in his eyes. "I'm almost 10 weeks pregnant. The baby's due toward the end of July."

She could see him mulling this over in his head, the idea growing and morphing as he inspected the information she was giving him. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world," he declared, dipping down to kiss her lips softly. "I can't fathom how incredibly lucky I feel right now that you're right here in front of me telling me that we're going to have a baby. You do realize that your father and I are going to be fighting to see who gives him lessons in sword fighting. And your mother is going to be here or on your talking device every hour with advice for you. And Henry's going to be a great big brother to our son."

She laughed as her dashing pirate of a husband was mentally picturing himself as a father, imagining all the adventures and quiet times they would have together as a family. "You do realize this baby could be a girl, right?" she asked laughingly. "No guarantees that this is a boy."

"I'll have to practice my dad speeches for when she dates," he said. "And if this is a girl then you'll have to teach me how to have tea parties and we'll have to make her doll houses. But I think she should still learn sword fighting from me. And either way our child is going to learn to sail, and on a proper ship. No child of mine is going to think that one of those bloody motor boats is sufficient for a voyage."

She leaned forward and placed her head at his collar bone, tucking herself into his embrace. "Of course you are already making plans," she said. "I should have known."

He held her there for a moment, still rattling on about buying a crib and whether or not she should forgo her favorite coffee. She tried to shut him up with a kiss, but the words kept tumbling out of him until she reminded him that she was promised breakfast. He reluctantly released her, asking more questions about her health and that of the baby. Each declaration that she was fine produced a smile from him and another list of things they needed to do to get ready for the baby's arrival.

By early afternoon she had shown him websites that were designed to track the baby's development, printed out recommended recipes for pregnant women, and even discussed how to turn the small home office she had set up into a suitable nursery. She stopped him from trying to order paint and baby furniture online with the declaration that they would buy those items after they found out the baby's sex. He looked disappointed with that, but perked back up when she let him measure the room to see what size furniture would fit and again when they ate some of the leftovers for lunch in front of the fireplace.

"What?" she asked, covering her mouth as she finished another bite of her sandwich. "You're looking at me funny."

"No, I'm not," he protested. "Just thinking."

She felt self-conscious as she reached over to take another pickle spear. In just a few hours since she told him, she had already noted a difference in the way that he looked at her. Before the look had been one of admiration and amazement, pride that his wife was a strong woman with a fighting spirt. The love was still in his gaze, but he watched her as though she was delicate and even more valuable. It was going to be a long nine months, she thought.

"I'm annoying you?" he asked, perceptive as always.

She laughed, but it came out tight and stressed. "No, not this time," she said. "I'm really just thinking. I'm glad you know now and that you're happy, but…"

"You're not happy?" he asked, tilting his head to try to understand where she was going with this.

"I'm happy," she said to him, leaning forward to kiss him very lightly. "I am. I promise. It's just that I feel like it is a lot to process. Is Henry really going to be okay about this? My parents? Whoever else we decide needs to know? Can we actually pull this off?" She shook her head as she saw him get that look of self-doubt. "No, Killian. I don't mean it like that. I mean that we don't have the most stable life right now. Look at my parents. They used to drop everything and run in the direction of danger. They fought it together. Now they have to decide which one stays behind with the baby. They have to take turns and call and check in while the drama is going on out there. They have to get babysitters and even then their heads aren't always in the game because they are worried that Neal's not eating or sleeping or that he's teething or sick."

Killian nodded his head slightly. "We will work all that out," he said. "We're a team. A bloody good one at that."

She smiled at him. "Yes, we are a team," she answered. "I know that. I'm just a little sad things won't be the same. I know that what we have in store will be even better. I can't wait to hold this baby and to see you so infatuated with him or her that you just can't stand it. I want to come home and find you cradling our child against your chest. I want to slap your arm when your bedtime stories are a little too violent or risqué. So I'm excited about all of that coming true. I'm just sad to leave behind what we've been since we've known each other."

"You think it will change that much," he said, pushing aside his plate and gathering her up in his arms. "I seem to recall the storybook has a drawing of your father fighting off the dark guards with his sword in one hand and you peacefully slumbering in the other."

"I pray we never have to do anything like that," Emma said.

His chin rested on the top of her head. "Dare I ask what brought this on?" he asked, smoothing her hair. "I don't think the turkey sandwich or leftover casserole should have made you fear for the future. If so, may we please not eat tonight at your parents?"

She laughed, the sound more relaxed now. "No, it wasn't the food," she said. "I guess in a way it was how you've been looking at me." She felt him tense. "One of the first things I fell in love with was how you look at me with so much pride, admiration, and like we share some fantastic secret that even I don't always know. But I don't want that to change and it feels a little bit like it did."

With his voice muffled by her hair, he asked, "How do you think I've been looking at you?"

She pulled back, tilting her head up and smoothing the worried lines of his brow away with her hand. "Still with love," she said. "But it's like you see me as delicate and fragile."

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "I suppose I have. You are amazing and incredible, but with this news of you carrying our child I suppose I do see you as even more special. Even though you love to point out that you can and will rescue yourself from whatever danger we might face, I don't want you to do it alone. I want to be there with you to protect our child and my wife. So forgive me for not ensuring that you feel my support and encouragement."

"Killian," she said softly. "You don't need to apologize." The palm of her right hand rested on his cheek, warming her. "We're both new at this and maybe I've been a little irrational."

His lips closed in on hers, warm breath on her skin and mouth as he dipped lightly against her. Softly he finally touched his lips to hers, the warmth growing as his tongue traced the seam of her mouth and then retracted just as fast. But again his tongue licked the seam of her lips, darting inside the second she gave invitation. She was as hungry as he, nipping and tasting with a soft moan. She sank further into him and tilted her head to give him greater access. Killian clenched his fist in her hair. He devoured her, the kiss so hard and hot that she felt like she was being swallowed whole... consumed.

Killian's flavor flooded her mouth as her tongue collided with his, arguing as passionately with licks and touches the way they had argued with words earlier in their relationship. The give and take of their mouths distracted them both as he slipped his other arm under her sweater.

Emma moaned in response, pulling away for a second of oxygen before going back to his waiting mouth. His kisses were intoxicating, the kind that had once upon a time efficiently erased the memory of any other man's touch as he expertly slanted his mouth over hers, exploring her depths and taking exactly what he wanted.

He made her weak. She felt as if her knees would buckle at any time, his kiss was so overwhelming. The taste of him flooded her senses, hot and sweet and so damn addictive even after all their time together. A desperate heat surged through her and she gripped his hair in an attempt to get closer, tangling her tongue with his.

He grasped at the hem of her sweater, urging it up. Impatiently she took her hands and guided it up and over her head, losing their connection for just a moment. But that was not enough for him as he fiercely he tugged at the small zipper of her pants. He splayed a hand over her exposed flesh and wrenched his mouth away from hers. "God, you have the softest skin," he marveled. "So beautiful."

She smiled and took a step back from his grasp, pushed her pants down, kicking them off like they burned her skin. The material slid neatly down her form, and her smile grew at the incendiary look on his face. She reached for the clasp on her bra and then thought better of it, folding her hands primly in front of her. He growled softly.

"Your turn," she giggled. Killian complied, shrugging out of his shirt and tossing in past them.  
>She crossed her arms over her chest and simply watched as he undressed. He usually did that to her, she knew, sometimes just to throw her off balance. But Emma wouldn't give him the satisfaction this afternoon. His muscles twitched under her gaze and she lifted her eyes to his, pleased to see them even darker, hot with the knowledge that her eyes had taken pleasure in perusing him.<p>

But when he inched his fingers down to undo his belt she stopped him, choosing instead to press up against him, feel him hot skin to hot skin. Killian reached around her and unhooked her bra for her, letting the heavy globes of flesh tumble free. He crushed her to him again and she gasped as the scattering of downy hair abraded her sensitive nipples, pulling them even tighter. She moaned as he opened his mouth on her neck, gently bit down.

He wedged a thigh between hers and gently eased them both down to the ground. His hand caught her head before it reached the carpet and he absently reached for one of the throw pillows that he usually ridiculed for her. "Emma," he murmured. His lips burned her neck and slowly made their way to her collarbone, treating her to more soft kisses. Down her body he kissed and licked, pausing at her breasts. He curled an arm around her, lifting her for access. He kissed the top of one breast first, licking and biting at the soft skin, then laving the small sting he created. Emma moaned beneath him and arched.

"More," she chanted as she twisted mindlessly beneath his mouth. "More, more, more." Giving her what she wanted, he tugged an erect nipple into his mouth, suckling her hungrily. His mouth was warm and damp, the torturous suction doing little to ease the ache that had begun to build inside her. With every swirl of his talented tongue she wanted more, felt the desire swirling lower and lower within her body. Her hips moved against him, grinding up onto to him. He switched to her other nipple, giving the same generous attention.

"Such a greedy little thing," he whispered against her breast, trailing more nips and kisses down her body. He burned over her stomach and they both stilled as he placed a single kiss to her lower abdomen, his eyes flashing with love.

"Too slow," she panted, her body shivering with the touch of air which seemed cool against the fire he had built within her. "Please just..."

"I'm exploring," he replied, dipping his tongue into her navel. "Patience, love. I'll give you everything you want and then some... eventually."

She wanted to slap him, knee him in the groin or something. But it felt so good to be touched by him, she wanted everything he was promising and knew from experience that he would deliver. She wanted everything she knew he was capable of giving her. Emma let him continue to explore her body, closing her eyes and letting the waves of love she had for him wash over her, committing the feeling to memory.

After taking his time teasing her hip, Killian moved right on down to her thigh, making her jump with momentary surprise. "Killian," she said again, urging him to continue before they had to leave. He ignored her, and instead focused on drawing a soft patch of skin on her inner thigh into his mouth, branding her. "Oh god," she moaned weakly. And then she felt it, the hint of tongue as he licked a patch upwards, dragging his mouth leisurely over her panties. Her hips bucked at the light pressure, just where she needed it most. He licked her center again, through the damp satin, a low moan of appreciation deep in his throat. She expected him to remove the scrap of fabric, but he didn't. Killian teased her by sliding his fingers beneath the edge of her panties, touching her gently. She moved against him, seeking more contact. "Please," she begged, ready to be shameless in any way she needed to be.

He smiled as he pushed her legs apart, resting between them, his lips curling like a Cheshire cat, satisfied and sinful. Slowly he used one finger to pet her aching folds, marveling in her response. "You're so wet for me already, love," he whispered, sinking one large finger into her heat. Emma cried out and he added another, stretching her slightly. "So perfect," Killian muttered as he lowered his head again to kiss her through the panties. Slowly he fingered her, his thrusts gentle and measured. She whimpered fretfully beneath him, causing him to place his hook on her hip to keep her still. His tongue darted out again, licking her and kissing her, gifting her with the occasional nip. Her frustrated noises turned him on immensely and he considered drawing it out longer. But the erection that painfully pressed against his pants reminded him that if he kept this up too much longer he wouldn't last long enough to finish this, to keep his promise of making love to her. He withdrew his fingers, eliciting a loud cry of protest from his wife. He rewarded her by roughly stripping away her panties and covering her center with his mouth, stabbing his tongue into her before finding her clit and treating her to a long, excruciating suckle.

She twisted and bucked, moving freely against him while he stayed with her, drawing out the explosive tremors and sensations until she quieted, drifted to stillness. He kissed a path up the center of her body, between her breasts and over her chin to her mouth. Lazily he kissed her, giving her his tongue and the taste of herself. "Oh god," she said weakly. "I can't –."

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her face. Her hands immediately lifted her fingers seeking him out through his pants. He groaned when her fingers traced the outline of his erection and reached down to help her dispose of his clothes. They worked frantically, tugging at zippers and buttons and cloth until he was nude, throbbing under her appreciative gaze. She leaned down and placed a kiss on the tip of his erection and he knew he was about to lose it. Instantly he had her flat on her back again, right where he wanted her. Distracting her with his mouth on hers, and then on her breasts, he felt her tense and relax with each movement.

Killian took her hands in his, lifted them high above her head. She closed her eyes and he held the position, staring down at her, entranced by her perfect, heaving breasts and the small drops of sweat that had formed from the heat and need. Gradually she opened her eyes, looking up at him questioningly. Only then, with her eyes locked on his, did he push into her with one long thrust, filling her and then some. Emma cried out and his vision went hazy, from the look in her eyes and the feeling of being completely engulfed by Emma. She was still wet from her orgasm, creamy hot, gripping his erection tightly. In his opinion, nothing had ever felt so good, so perfect...

"Are you okay?" he murmured, nipping at her earlobe and kissing her jaw. "I don't want to do anything wrong with the baby."

"Better than okay – oh my god!" she cried weakly as he pulled out and then thrust into her again. Emma locked her legs around him, urging him deeper as she began to move with him, their pace fast and steady. "Killian," she chanted his name over and over again as he thrust into her, deep and hard. Everything blurred and his heart raced... he knew he was close, painfully close.

"Come for me, Emma," he ordered, thrusting deeper and taking a nipple into his mouth. He bit down gently and felt her stiffen, scream his name hoarsely. She shook against him, gripping his throbbing erection like a vise. And he was lost. Colors exploded in his vision, the blue of her eyes and the gold of her hair, the gray sky out the window behind her all blurred together in his sight existed. He pumped into her one last time, calling out her name as he came, shuddering as he fell on top of her trembling form.

Later she woke to his fingers in her hair, a blanket covering them and his blue eyes gazing at her with a mixture of all the feelings they had discussed earlier. She considered his gaze for a moment and realized that she might like this new one too.

"Hi," he murmured, stroking her cheek now.

"How... how long have I been asleep?" she asked. He smiled and snuggled his forehead close to hers, keeping a small distance.

"Awhile." He grinned. "But you woke up just in time. We need to get ready for your family's party." He groaned when she sat partway up and then rolled over to lay her head on his chest.

"I don't want to," she said like a petulant child. "I want to stay here."

His chuckle echoed in his chest. "I think we have to, love," he said. "Your parents are expecting us, your son, your brother." He gave her a quick squeeze. "Little late to send our regrets now."

She muttered something about responsible pirates and obligations as she straightened up. Yanking the blanket with her, she left him naked on the floor as she wrapped the soft material around her and padded toward the bathroom for her shower.

"Hey!" he protested.

"You wouldn't want the mother of your child to be cold," she said, smirking at his surprised expression. "I thought you said you would never deny me anything."

He grinned back at her. "I'm going to hear that for a long time."

"Just for the rest of your life," she told him, blowing him a kiss and scampering off to get ready. "Merry Christmas."

_**Hope you enjoyed this one-shot. Have a great Thanksgiving! Know that I'm thankful for your feedback and reviews. **_


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